The Other Hero
by Siobhan O'Hara
Summary: Warning! Some DH spoilers! A short conversation between Harry and Neville where Neville learns about the prophecy and what might have been..


_Disclaimer – Nope, I still don't own it, which means that Neville's poor parents are still at St. Mungo's._

_A/N – This scene is meant to take place shortly after the final battle at Hogwarts, possibly right after Harry gets his sandwich._

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"What's this?" Neville stared at the stone basin.

"It's a pensieve," Harry replied. "It's the reason I wanted to see you."

"I don't understand."

Harry touched his wand to his temple, pulling out a silvery thread. After a moment, he dropped it into the pensieve. It swirled slowly around.

"This was Dumbledore's," he explained. "It's a way of getting a clear look at your memories."

"But…why would you want to see my memories?"

"No, Neville, it's my memory we'll be visiting." Harry looked over at the painting behind the desk. "Actually, it's my memory of being shown one of Dumbledore's memories. But it concerns you as much as me so I think it's only right for you to know."

Neville looked from Harry to the pensieve and back to Harry. "I still don't understand."

Harry stepped closer and put his hand on Neville's shoulder. "I can't really explain it. That's why I thought it best to just show you my memory. Here. I'm going to go in first. All you have to do is lean forward until your nose touches the surface. Okay?"

With that, Harry leaned into the pensieve and disappeared.

"Harry!" Neville ran forward and looked into the silvery water. "Harry!"

"It is all right, Mr. Longbottom," Dumbledore's calm voice called from his portrait. "Just do as Harry instructed and you will understand."

"All right, sir." Neville nodded. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and stuck his face into the pensieve.

He landed on his bottom in the headmaster's office. Hearing raised voices he looked around and saw a younger Harry standing by the door, arguing with the portraits.

"Over here, Neville." The adult Harry stood behind the desk. "Dumbledore will be here any moment."

"But… what's going on?"

"This is my memory from the night we fought in the Department of Mysteries. Dumbledore showed me something that night, and he told me something about you that you deserve to know. I think it explains rather a lot about you."

At that moment there was a green flash and Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace. The two of them watched together as the younger Harry stormed around breaking things and yelling.

"Harry! I can't believe you're yelling at the Headmaster!" Neville was awestruck.

"Well, I was upset." Harry replied sheepishly. "You remember that night."

They continued watching as Dumbledore explained to Harry why he had been so slow to tell him the truth. Neville's jaw dropped when he heard the professor explain that the prophecy could have applied to either of them, it was Voldemort who chose Harry.

"Come on." Harry touched his friend's arm. "It's time to go back."

When they returned from the pensieve, Neville stood dumbfounded, shaking his head.

"I don't understand, Harry."

"Dumbledore told me that prophecy's almost never come true. He said they're changeable. It's only a person's belief in it that brings it to reality."

"But Harry. That prophecy was about you, not me. Voldemort chose you and you were able to touch it without going crazy."

"You could touch it too. Don't you see? The prophecy was wrong! It said '**the one'** but as Dumbledore pointed out, there are **two** of us that fit."

"I don't know, Harry." Neville rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Voldemort chose you, he marked you. Maybe it could have been either of us at one time, but it ended up being you."

"No, Neville. I don't think that's true." Harry walked over to the window. "I don't think Voldemort thought it was me. I think he planned on getting rid of us both. He couldn't have felt safe if either one of us was alive." He turned back to face Neville. "And he was right. It took both of us to kill him."

Neville shook his head. "You're crazy. You killed him. I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did." Harry patted him on the shoulder and headed to the door. "Just think about it."

"But I **didn't** do anything," he said to himself, "Did I? I helped Harry fight the Death Eaters, but I didn't really do much. I mean, in the end I only stood there, I didn't even have a wand! And I did try to defend the castle in sixth year but I wasn't alone. There were aurors there helping! And, okay, so I rallied against Voldemort this year and led an underground army, but still! It was Harry who fought him in the end. All I did was kill the snake, and what difference did that make?"

"All the difference in the world," Dumbledore spoke quietly from his portrait. "Just like everything else you have done. You stood by Harry.."

"But everyone did that!" Neville interrupted.

"True, yes. But when Harry had to leave to complete everything necessary in order to kill Voldemort, who was it that lead the DA in his stead? Who did everyone rally around when Harry could not be here? Who defied Voldemort when everyone thought that Harry was dead? Neville, my boy, you were just as important to the winning of this war as Harry."

Neville sat for several minutes letting it sink in. "That's what Harry was trying to tell me." He whispered. "I'm a hero."


End file.
